*walks out on to the stage, lights all dramatic like. the barker walks in to the center ring. he takes position somewhere in the upper left quadrant and chooses a contrapposto pose. except he cannot look the audience in the eye, looking down towards the center of the ring. strategically long hair and a fancy top hat covers his face

welcome, to the meta theater playhouse! please don't mind our poor formatting and lazy css, we are open during construction- not that we ever plan on finishing…

*his speech trails off, not that his voice was noticeable in the first place. so quiet, so monotone.

take a look inside, and wander round. try to get lost, try to get out. not much here yet. see what you can find. some lost fool's random notes and ramblings? an attempt to reach outside his head? oh the horror! oh the tragedy! another pitiful attempt at humor? or a justification for a sorry existence? self-decrepation as a defense mechanism?

you'll just have to find out for yourself. i sure don't know what i'm talking about. let the horrors begin! the horrors of a mind trapped within a mind, looking at itself looking outside itself at a reflection of itself. trying to escape the metaphors and idioms, to speak plainly about something that everyone else probably already figured out a long time ago. the only twist here is how out of touch this mind really is.

*the barker bows, sweeping the cane in his right hand across the ground as his arm crosses his chest. his hat falls from his head.